


Abuse

by MyLife



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drug Abuse, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Rape, Tag, emotional breakdown, i hate making tags, implied rape, ugh so many tags, unsure what else to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 12:40:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyLife/pseuds/MyLife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gamzee has dragged Karkat to a club, but problems arise as Gamzee ditches him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Abuse

**Author's Note:**

> Oh Gog. 300+ hits! He@rte for everyone! <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

One shot!

 

Your name is Karkat Vantas and you don't know what the fuck past you was thinking. Big surprise there.

 

You stare out the window of the car you're currently in as it makes its slow progress down the dingy back alley streets of Seattle. Really there wasn't much to look at out the window save for hookers and shady ass tattoo parlors, but you stare anyways, waiting to arrive at their destination.

Somehow Gamzee had convinced you to tag along with his older brother, Kurloz to a 'party' where the two planned on meeting a few of their weird ass friends. 

You knew you'd probably just stand there akwarkly while everyone else got high off their asses, but Gamzee had pleaded to you in that way that made him resemble a puppy that had been kicked one too many times, and you of course had caved. Like. Fucking. Always. 

Now you had nothing better to do then wait to watch people get wasted. Not that you weren't high already. Of course you had smoked a joint before leaving your house, but you were pretty sure pot wasn't on everyone's agenda tonight. Oh hell no. They were all looking for something ALOT fucking crazier than that.

The thought causes you to turn and look at Gamzee seated beside you, who was at the moment staring out the window, smiling his ass of and chuckling softly to himself. He was probably hallucinating fucking rainbows or some of that other half-baked shit he was always rambling on about.

Not that you really cared how high he and his brother were, (and they were high as FUCK right now) even though Kurloz was driving. Weed usually had that affect on you. It was like, knew you should care, but you couldn't really bring yourself to really give a fuck.

 

You shrug and return your gaze to your own window just as the car comes to a halt. Kurloz turns the ignition off, and pops his door open to get out. 

The car was parked outside of a rundown brick building. A few cars scattered the parking lot, and a lone figure waited by the entrance of the building. It was of course, Kurloz' girlfriend, Muelin, who nearly pounced on him in glee as he hopped out of the drivers seat. They share a small kiss before he takes her hand and leads her towards building, leaving Gamzee and Karkat alone in the lot.

Looking at the building in front of you, you begin to have second thoughts on coming here. But now your trapped here, no ride back until Kurloz decides to leave.

You sigh and run your hand through the mop of intameable tangles that dare calls itself your hair, before you feel a tug on your baggy sweatshirt.

Its Gamzee of course, and he's giving you that dopey smile of his."DuDe. MoThErFuCkInG mIrAcLeS." He says simply, pointing vaguely towards the entrance of the building. He then grabs you by the loose fabric and begins to halfheartedly pull you towards the grimy glass door, Kurloz had just disappeared into.

You shrug and let your friend pull you. It was his idea to come here so he might as well lead the way.

As soon as the door is opened all of your senses are assaulted. The place smells like sweat, pot, and alcohol. The combination of artificial fog, strobe lights, and lasers moving through the air in lazy circles leave you blinded.

As your eyes adjust you notice that there's a fuck ton of people here. You don't know how they all got here considering the shortage of cars in the lot, but shrug it off , not worried with the details.

The small area was cramped but no one seemed to notice, as most were either lying on each other smiling at the ceiling or dancing incoherently and bumping into each other completely off beat to the ridiculous screamo music playing from overhead. No one seems to have any regard for personal space around here.

Soon enough you realize Gamzee isn't holding you sleeve or dragging you any more. More to the point you don't see him anywhere. Where the fuck did that creepy clown asshole go?

Now you're left alone, surrounded by strangers on all sides, without the guidance of your usually jubilant asshat of a friend. 

'Well fuck...'

Then to top off your shitty situation your stomach begins to growl, probably because of the pot you smoked before you got here. Fan-fucking-tastic.

You scan the room for something to eat. They have to have munchies somewhere, right? Something else catches your eye as you search, though. A table at the far back where three people are currently smoking a bowl. That seems a little more your level, than the pills that were practically covering every surface, or the needles lying around. Plus they're all snacking on a bag of cheetos. You decide to make your way across the crowded room, towards them.

After declining multiple 'dance' requests and hopping over multiple unconsious people you finally make it to the group. At first they don't notice you standing there watching them, so you cough loudly causing the one with the shitty 3D glasses on to look up.

"Thup?" He says with a pretty prominent lisp.

"Mind if I join you?" You ask a little self consciously. 

"Thure, the more the merrier, right?" He says smirking, and patting the seat next to him on the dingy, probably white at some point, couch.

You smile and plop down next to him. He hands you a joint which you gladly accept.

"Tho what's your th'tory? You don't th'eem like the kinda that come'th to the'the sort of thing'th often." The 3D guy asks staring at the ceiling.

"Got dragged here by my 'so called' friend. Great fucking friend, huh?" You reply with a huff. "The name's Karkat by the way."

"Thollux." He says smiling. Then points to his companions who are ignoring you guys, and having ttheir own conversation. "That'th Aradia and that'th Fereri."

You nod as you take a long drag on the joint.

"You hungry?" He asks. Then he answers himself before you get a chance. "Never mind. Of course you are." His smile is a knowing one now.

He reaches into a container on the other side of the table and pulls out a brownie. You grab it from his hand desperately before proceeding to munch on it. You had almost forgotten how hungry you were. 

While your distracted he grabs a soda from the mini fridge next to the table. You don't notice as he pours a couple of drops from a small vial onto the drink.

"Here." He says handing you the soda, with a stoic face.

You, being none the wiser, pull it from his grip gratefully. Then proceed chug it down, unaware of its extra contents. "Thanks, dude." 

"Glad to help." A smile is tugging at his lips again, and you smile back. It's not very often you find guys as chill as Sollux.

≠♦>}

Pretty soon your head is in a fog, and you can't think straight. Everything seems blurry, and you can't quite find your footing. You can't seem to stop laughing either. Everything is funny. I mean really, fuck it, the world a hilarious place, right?

The 3D glasses guy ditched you a while ago, but you're fine with that. He was BORING. Now you're having fun dancing with whoever the hell this guy is. And its WAY more fun.

The guy dancing with you is wearing a purple scarf that seems to twirls around him as he dances. It's amazing watching it float around seemingly of its own accord.

"Fuck life!" You half giggle half yell, spinning in another circle. At least you think it's you spinning. Maybe its the room thats spinning. You don't really care which is spinning, instead you watching it spin and laugh some more.

Your new friend grabs your arm, stopping your dance from progressing any further, and you pout your lip out childishly. "Hey. Lets go to the back room. I need another hit." 

You nod, not knowing what he's talking about, but follow him as he leads you to a flimsy wooden door at the far end of the room.

Inside more people are lying around, glaezed looks on their faces. Some are smoking, others popping pills, and some even are shooting needles.

Scarf guy pulls you inside and shuts the door after you enter. Then moves towards a table situated in the center of the room, cobered of a wide assortment of drugs. He looks over the choices before finally settling on a baggy filled with little red pills, and a needle full of who knows what.

He practically drags you across the small room to an empty spot on the cold, cement floor and you both settle down. 

He pulls out three pills from the baggy and hands them to you. You don't even question him, but instead swallow them dry.

On some level deep down you know you shouldn't be doing this, but your head is too cloudy, and everyone around you is smiling (even if they're vacant smiles at the ceiling), so you do it anyways.

The scarf guy is now shooshing you, pulling your head onto his shoulder. He had already finished hitting up with his needle, and was now contenting himself to running his hands through you messy hair.

Everything gets heavy. Your eyelids, your arms, your feet. You feel exhausted. The lights seem dimmer and you think sleeping sounds nice. 

Your friend is smiling at you, so you give him a lazy smile back.

Then he starts getting up and, despite your slurred complaints about being tired, he pulls you to your feet after him. You have to lean heavily on his shoulders because it feels impossible to take even one more step. But he's still smiling down at you, so you smile back knowing you can trust him.

After that you can't remember what happens.

 

≠♦>}

You wake up slowly, as your brain tries to remember how to function. You open your eyes to find that you're lying in the dirt. Apon further inspection you find that your in a ditch. On the side of the road. How fucking cliche.

Not only that but you're covered in vomit, blood that your only half sure is yours, and... OH GOG! PLEASE TELL ME THATS NOT WHAT I THINK IT IS.....

Your head is pounding like a little lumberjack is living in there, copping at your brain, but at least you're able to think clearer than when you were in the club. OH GOD, THE CLUB....

You start to sit up and wince in pain as you find bruises, and cuts all over. Not only that but plently of muscles protest your slightest movement. 

What the fuck had happened to you?

You reach into your pocket and pull out your phone which is incredibly still there. Probably cause it was a shitty flip phone. You open it to find 9 missed calls with voicemails from Kankri, and 36 texts from Gamzee.

You don't think your poor head could handle a full on Kankri barrage right now, so you stick to reading Gamzee's texts.

The first few were from that night:

'HeY wHeRe YoU aLl Up AnD hIdInG mOtHeRfUcKeR? Me AnD kUrLbRoZ aRe AlL Up AnD rEaDy To LeAvE.'

'I'm NoT mOtHeRfUcKiN JoKiN bRoThEr. We AlL uP aNd ReAdY tO go.'

'WeRe GonNa AlL uP aNd LeAvE yOu BeHiNd...'

'FiNe SeE yA tOmOrRoW bRoThEr.'

Then some from the next day:

'HeY wHaT aLl Up HaPpEnEd To YoU LaSt Night?' 

'BrO, yOu MaD aT mE oR sOmEtHiNg?'

'KaRbRo...?'

'HeLlO? AnSwEr Me...'

Then day three:

'Karbro, message me when you get this.'

'Dude I'm motherfuckin worried 'bout you.'

'Where are you...?'

Then from today:

'Dude I'm flipping my shit here!'

'PICK UP!'

ect, ect, ect.

Had you really been gone three days? An even better question was WHERE had you been for three days? 

You open a new message and send Gamzee a reply.

'I'M IN A FUCKING DITCH, ASSWIPE. COME PICK ME UP.'

Within seconds Gamzee replies.

'Dude! You had me worried. Where exactly are you?" It was unlike Gamzee to not type with his quirk. He must have been all sorts of messed up over you. 

You stand up painfully, and take in your surroundings. Your in a dirt ditch on the side of a busy road, probably a highway. You can just make out a sign that says "Eq's Auto Repair" in the distance. You recognize the sign. You're on -------- Highway in the outskirts of town. You tell Gamzee this and he promises to be there in a few minutes.

You sit down and wait until finally Gamzee's ridiculous purple polkadotted van pulls to the side out the road. You hop in and sink into the soft, worn out cushions of the seat.

Gamzee starts driving, but keeps giving you side glances, as if waiting for you to explain yourself. But you stay silent, rubbing your temple's trying to coax your headache down a notch.

Finally he breaks the silence.

"Where the motherfuck have you been?!?! I've been all up and worried bout you brother!" Gamzee's clean right now, you can tell by not only the lack if slurs in his works, but the clarity that shines in his eyes. It surprises you, really. He's usually always high on one thing or another, hardly even taking a break between rounds.

He must have been really, REALLY worried.

"Don't know." You reply shortly trying to push throuh the pounding in your head.

"How do you not motherfucking know?" He's livid now. Practically yelling at you, demanding answers.

You flinch and cover your ears, the noise was NOT help your fucking headache. "I said I don't fucking know you asshat! I don't even remember leaving that fucking party you dragged me to!"

Gamzee looks at you harshly at first, then his gaze softened as he notices the blood and vomit and... still not gonna even comment on that third thing, for the first time.

"Karkat..." Gamzee whispers your name, genuine cornern lacing his voice.

The van pulls up to his house just then, and he cuts the engine, before turning his whole attention towards you.

You watch each other for a minute unsure what to say. He looks on the verge of tears, and you know you must look the same, probably worse.

Finally you decide to break the silence by opening the door of the van and hopping out on unsteady legs. You lean against the van for a full minute before pushing away to walk towards the small house.

Gamzee follows you putting a sturdy hand on your back to make sure you don't fall as you walk to the door. He pulls it open and leads you to his room. 

The house seems quite so you assume no one is home, which pleases you. That last thing you want is to be answering stupid questions right now. Instead you lay down gratefully on Gamzee's bed, hugging the sheets and crying softly to yourself.

He doesn't disturb you as you drift off to sleep on his bed, even though you're making a mess of his relatively clean sheets with your disgusting as fuck clothes, and tears.

 

≠♦>}

That night and many nights after that, you dream of the horrific events of those days you were missing. You slowly fill in the gaps, rwveqling things so horrible, so disturbing that you can't even bring yourself tell Gamzee everything.

You always wake up crying, shaking and sweating. But Gamzee's always there when you need him. To quite your sobbed and comfort you. Even if he can't be there physically he always picks up the phone the moment it rings, ready to talk to you, even if don't tell him what happened that left you so distraught.

He understands though. Somethings you can't are to horribel to relive even if only in words. Anyways you're pretty sure he can fill in most of the blanks.

After that day Gamzee never asks you to go to another party. He doesn't even offer you pot any more. He sees the way drugs terrify you now, so he doesn't do them around you. In fact he even goes so far as to stop getting high at as often overall because he knows you can't stand it. 

Though you would never admit it, he's a good friend. The best actually. You know it's mostly his fault that this happened at all, but he's sorry for everything. He's trying to do better for both of your sake's. Because he's your best friend. And Gamzee Makara is yours.

**Author's Note:**

> As always constructive criticism is always, ALWAYS highly accepted. PLEASE comment even if its just to say you hate me. <3 <3 <3
> 
> Thx!!!


End file.
